Too late, too late
by Icevespera73
Summary: A look at the final moments of lives too late to be saved


It looked like a nightmare, dark walls, dark alley… the atmosphere pressed in, threatening to crush everything in its menacing grasp. How did it get to this stage? Why them? Everyone was acutely aware of the cold steel and lead in the hands of darkness around them, aware that at any moment, the concentration of lead in their blood could spike, aware that one wrong move, one six-minute gap could lead to devastation. Yet what could they do? Metal was made so much stronger than a man, unloving, unmoving, there was nothing to be done but wait, wait in blinding terror.

The silence screamed as he stood at the yawning exit. Just $100,000, 1 hour, this could be done. In-and-out, find it and get back, take it and save everyone… The shot rang out, bold and clear in the bending quiet, the first six minutes was up. He froze, his blood running cold as he realized the implications of that sound. He squeezed his eyes shut, how did this happen? Why him? Why the people he cared about? Well, now, less one person. His eyes fluttered open, one life was one too many, he could not let another life take the place of his mistake, his failure. He took one staggering step forward, his legs barely moving under the weight of the task before and the weight of those behind.

It had been half an hour, and he had just $50,127 to show for it. There were no banks at this hour, nowhere to turn. The police maybe? "Bring in any law enforcement and they die faster…" the words moved through his head, slow as a snail, allowing his mind to extend out to all the possibilities the words spelled out in great detail. How many had died while he was out? How many more would die if they found out about the police? NO, he shook his head vigorously, if there was any way he could even prevent a single death, that was the way to go. He glanced down at the meagre bag, did it really hold lives in it? When had the world begun measuring his friends' worth in cold hard cash? Disgust at his situation slowly pushed aside his fear and outrage. He had nothing more to offer, his only hope was to buy what little he could with what he had.

He stood in front of the black mouth, yawning lazily at him, as if it did not care about the lives within, the lives he was possibly wasting as he stood here trying to understand what shadows and darkness could tell him about the lives inside. Shaking his head slowly, he made his way forward, one hand flung out to feel the walls in the darkness. Suddenly, his hand came away wet; dark, sticky liquid crawled up his arm as he snatched back his hand. It couldn't be, it couldn't be, it coul…

A blinding light flickered on, confirming his worst fears in a single instant. The room was awash with red, the ceiling, the walls, his hands… How could there possibly be this much blood? His hands quaking, he looked down, and immediately regretted it... Horror etched itself into the ridges of his brain as he took in the bloodbath before. They bodies were splayed out before him, almost artistic in the care that seemed to have been employed. A large, bloody arrow pointing to the next room laid out in the blood of those he had failure. Why him? Why them? Why?

He made his way through the carnage, shielding his face from what he could, holding back the sobs that threatened him. He needed to stay strong, there had to be someone alive. Taking a shuddering breath, he made his way around the bend, stepping from the metaphorical darkness to the physical one.

"Well, well, well, welcome back, my man. Did you see the little present we left for you in the lobby?" A voice spoke out of the void, assaulting him in the darkness. He felt like retching at the mention of a present, that was hardly anything pleasant. "I have your money," he whispered, his voice quenched under the horror he had just witnessed, the quavering unable to be kept out of his voice. The bag was removed from his hand, in a quick, surgical motion. "Now now my man, this feels a little light for 100 grand, could it be that you've skimped on us, which would be a real shame, especially as we move towards your final friend." The person behind the voice materialized as the lights shuddered on. He looked towards his tormentor, a slender man with a lime green Mohawk and a purple leather jacket, but his attention was soon captured by movement at the other side of the room.

The final victim: a girl with titian hair, head hanging low, eyes downcast, waiting for the inevitable end. She looked up as she sensed another presence in the room as cold as a crypt. Looking up, she felt a spark of hope light itself, the money was here, maybe they could get out of this alive, but the horror in his face struck her down, it was over.

In an instant, she felt the chilling barrel of the gun press into her temple, she could feel the cold certainty radiating off the man with the green Mohawk, he would not miss. She locked gaze with her friend, "You did not fail, you are not responsi…" then there was a splitting pain in her head, her thoughts went wild as she saw the wave of blackness and haze of red collide in her vision. Good bye, she thought, and the world was black.

He looked down at what was the reminder of his friend, sharp hatred filling his heart as he faced the man with the Mohawk. There was nothing left to lose, he had failed his friends, he was responsible for every one of their deaths. He lifted his eyes in defiance to see the eye of the pistol staring intently at him, as if waiting to devour another soul. "It's really too bad that you didn't get what we wanted in time, I usually don't enjoy killing too many people, though I will admit that today was rather fun. Well then, I'd better split before anyone shows up to ruin my fun. Good bye my man," with a wink and a smile, a puff of cloud from a man-made weapon of destruction, another soul stood on the edge of the earthly realm. Out of the corner of his dying eye, he saw a flash of black, a giant moving shadow, a bat? He almost chuckled to himself, if he had the strength to, he would have. "Too late, too late," he whispered as the final darkness overwhelmed him and he succumbed to it willingly…


End file.
